More Than Just A Flower
by IvoryDragon432
Summary: The rose meant more to Severus than anyone understood, and it's wilting would change him forever.


_A/N: This has been sitting nearly complete for three months while I struggled getting the ending to come out the way I wanted. After several changes, I've decided just to post it as is. This is the first story I've written that spans more than one day and I'm not sure I've managed the passage of time well, but hopefully it came out decently._

Written for the Colors of the Rainbow Challenge - Red #3

Word Prompt: Rose

* * *

 _December 1975_

Severus was late returning to his common room. He had been on his way out of the library when Potter and Black were passing by. Of course, they had taken the opportunity to delay him. He guessed he should be relieved really, they'd only shoved him around a bit and prevented him from getting to the common room before curfew, and he was lucky enough to still get there before Professor Slughorn did his nightly check.

He couldn't wait for winter holidays to start. His home might not be the greatest place, but at least there he wouldn't be bothered too much during the day and could go somewhere else if he needed to. After the way this week had gone, pretty much anything would be worth it to get away from Potter and Black. Besides, he wanted to check on his mother. She'd done so much for him when he was younger, and he tried to help her in return, but there was nothing he could do from here.

By the time Severus reached his room, his dormmates were all asleep. He sat down on his bed and pulled a small box out of the drawer in his bedside table. After double checking that everyone was asleep, he opened the box and pulled out a single white rose. Just holding it his hand he could feel the subtle magic of the enchantment that kept it alive. He remembered the day his mother had cast the spell on it.

 _The sun was just starting to fall below the treeline as Severus finished tending the small flowerbed in the front yard. His mother had planted this flower bed with herbs and flowers a few years ago when she had be teaching him the magical properties of the plants. The roses were just coming into bloom and he was considering cutting a small bouquet for his mother. He had apparently lost track of time and was startled when he heard his father's car pull into the driveway. He always tried to be in his room before his father came home, so he wasn't sure what to do. It wouldn't go over well if he just stood here and ignored his father's return. He might be able to run into the house and upstairs before his father got out of the car, but it probably wouldn't go any better if he wasn't fast enough to not be seen. The decision was taken out of his hands as his father stomped up the walkway sooner than Severus had expected. It was no surprise to see that his father had been drinking, but he couldn't quite stop the small gasp when his father tripped over his own feet and stumbled into the flowerbed. He immediately regretted it when his father looked up at him. "Really boy? They're just flowers. Your mother shouldn't let you get so attached to these things anyway." he slurred as he started kicking and stomping his way through the flowerbed. His mother must have noticed as she suddenly appeared at the door to announce that dinner was on the table. With one last kick at the last rose bush, his father made a dismissive sound and headed indoors. Severus just stood there. Three minutes ago there had been a perfectly tended flowerbed in front of him, now there was just a mess petals and leaves smashed into a rectangle of mud. One lone rosebush stood at the end of the bed, if you could call bent at a terrible angle standing. He hadn't noticed his mother come out to stand next to him. She let out a small sigh as she said, "Perhaps flowers aren't the best option for our front yard." He looked up at her. She seemed as upset as he was, and he figured she was probably right. If he planted more flowers, they'd probably get stomped on too. He nodded at her, and looked back at the flowerbed. He would miss having this to work on during the summers. It was then that he noticed a single white rose in the grass on the side of the flowerbed. Apparently one of the flowers his father had kicked survived its' flight intact. His mother saw what he was looking at and reached down for the flower. She pulled out her wand and whispered a quick "perseverare." She handed him the rose and turned back toward the house. When he didn't follow right away, she turned back, "Quickly, take that to your room then come to dinner. I can teach you that spell tomorrow if you'd like."_

He sat there staring at the rose until he finally felt like he was tired enough to sleep. He gently set the rose back into its' box, put the box back in his drawer, and laid down. Even though he had thought he was tired, he probably spent an hour staring at the ceiling before he finally fell asleep.

Morning came way too soon for Severus. He didn't think he'd slept for more than five hours. As he got dressed and gathered together his homework, he hoped that today would go better than the last few days had. There were only three more days until the holidays started now, and he just wanted to get through them.

* * *

Hoping for a good day had been no help at all. Apparently Black had also felt that he had been let off easily the night before. In charms class, a "mis-aimed" spell from Black had Severus's robes flashing different bright colors every few seconds. In transfiguration, his bookbag had been transfigured into a goblet. And he'd been tripped on his way in to dinner in the Great Hall.

Severus was currently hiding in an abandoned classroom near the Slytherin dorms. This hallway was the one place he wasn't likely to run into any of the marauders, though that didn't stop the occasional Slytherin from trying to kick him out of the room so that they could use it. Thankfully, it had been quiet here tonight. He guessed that everyone was starting to pack to go home or just celebrating having a few days without much homework.

Five minutes before curfew Severus finally headed back towards the common room. He walked through the door with just one minute to spare. Professor Slughorn was heading into the common room from the door on the other side that lead to the dorm rooms. "Ah, there you are Mr. Snape. Do try to be back earlier, if you can." With that said, the professor passed by him and headed out the door. It just figured that he'd get admonished for being late even when he wasn't.

Once again he found his dormmates were all in bed by the time he'd entered the room. He quietly took the rose out from it's hiding place and held it in his hand. He felt the warmth of the magic in it and he remembered his mother teaching him the spell.

 _His mother had found him in his room the next morning, sitting on his bed, staring at that rose. She'd asked him if he wanted to learn the spell and he'd said yes. She'd explained that it was a rare spell used to keep small plants and flowers as fresh as if they were alive and about how it was meant as a short-term preservation for bouquets and potions ingredients that weren't sensitive to magic. He'd asked her how long it could last, but she said she wasn't sure._

He had actually been surprised to see the spell still holding five months after it had been cast. He had planned to dry the flower when the spell wore off, but so far he hadn't needed to worry about it. As he was thinking about this, he noticed the edges of the petals start to discolour. He used his magic to try to check the spell and found that, rather than simply being gone, leaving only a faint aura like most spells would, the magic of the spell seemed more to be receding, like the spell itself was withering and dying with the rose. The sensation was unpleasant and it filled Severus with an odd kind of dread.

Panicked for reasons he couldn't quite understand, he felt the sudden need to save his rose. He grabbed for his wand and cast the same spell his mother had. He felt the magic connect, but instead of stopping at the rose, it intermixed with what was left of his mother's spell. He could feel his magic trying to preserve not only the rose, but his mother's magic as well. He fought to hold the spell strong, but he poured more and more magic into it without it gaining any power. Eventually, even with him pouring everything he had into the spell, his mother's magic continued to fade. He tried to hold onto it, but he was exhausting his magic...

* * *

He had awoken to an entirely too familiar white ceiling above him. It had taken several diagnosistic spells and way too much assuring that nothing strange had happened to get an explaination of why he wasn't in his dorm. Apparently, he had been unconscious for two days. It was nearly time to go home for the holidays. He was released from the infirmary with barely enough time to pack before the carriages arrived.

* * *

Severus spent the entire trip back to King's Cross staring out the window. He still hadn't exactly figured out what had happened to him, but he was sure it couldn't be good. He couldn't decide if he should focus on hoping everything was alright or giving in to the sense of dread that was nagging at him.

One trip around the train platform made up his mind for him. No one was there to pick him up. His mother was always waiting for him, but she was nowhere to be found. He didn't even bother looking for his father. Even if he wasn't at work, he wouldn't be here.

He watched the platform start to empty as he tried to decide how he would get home. He had just about decided that the Knight Bus might be his only option when Lily, who was on her way to meet her parents on the muggle side of the platform, asked him if he needed a ride home. Lily lived in his neighborhood, and riding wih Mr. Evans was probably safer than taking the Knight Bus to his house. He stayed quiet on the trip home. The sense of dread he had been feeling earlier was slowly settling into something closer to resignation. He didn't really want to impose on Lily and her father catching up anyway.

It was getting dark by the time he arrived at his house. Any other day, he would have been surprised to see his house mostly dark, but not today. It looked like there might be a small lamp on, but mostly he saw the flicker of the tv. As he stared at the flicker of the tv through the window, any dread or depression or resignation he had felt melted away. His mother seemed to be missing, or worse, no one bothered to care enough to tell him or pick him up from the train, and here was his father, watching tv. At that moment, it was anger that he felt...


End file.
